


Repurposed

by Penstrokes



Series: Role Swap AU [2]
Category: Super Science Friends
Genre: Freud's got like one line in this fic, Gen, Roleswap AU, takes place after Ep 4, this AU is not going to be in order
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-06-26 13:14:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15663927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Penstrokes/pseuds/Penstrokes
Summary: After the disaster that is the fight between Frued and Jung in the dreamscape, Jung is certain of his impending removal from the super science team.Churchill, however, has a slightly different plan for Jung.





	Repurposed

The morning after their little spat was unpleasant to say the least. Waking up with a very personal reminder- or two- was just the beginning of the worst of it. The _childish_ present Freud had left him refused to leave his forehead. Alas, time would have to take care of that. No amount of furious scrubbing would free him from ‘balls’ written on his face. A change of clothes and a shower was all he had at his disposal to lessen the burden for now.

 

Their feud was far from a secret. Not only from those on the team but the public knew it for the most part. Disappointment hung in the air, the frustration and annoyance was clear on everyone’s faces. Eating breakfast here was out of the question. Jung grabbed something to eat in his office, where he planned to stay for the rest of the day. Avoiding the looks the others would give him- Curie’s in particular- he pushed his way out of the kitchen.

 

“Hello, Jung.” Purred a smug Freud, who happened to be in the same doorway Jung was trying to leave from.

 

“Shut it, Sigmund. I don’t want to hear another word out of you. I don’t want to hear you, I don’t want to see you. I most certainly don’t want to think of you either!” Jung snapped, cutting of Freud from whatever he might have said next. Jung all but ran to his office. 

 

Shutting the door in a manner that more resembled slamming it , Jung locked it and plopped himself down at his desk. He wanted to be left alone. If there was anyone he was meant to be seeing today he didn’t care. Freud could have them for all he wanted.

 

It was painful enough that their close, almost intimate partnership had fallen so sharply. It was his fault for letting himself getting too close, too enamored. He was young, he was a fool. Starry eyed and trying to get his foot in the door to this grand world of the inner workings of the mind. He didn’t know any better.

 

Jung had been no one, not even a name to all but the few whom he’d had the luck to meet or work with. Freud had been everything he himself had wanted to be. Well respected and well known. The chance to make his mark, to _matter._

 

His problems started and ended with Freud and it frustrated him. Frustration and anger turned into despair tugging at his throat and tears burning in his eyes.

 

_Why?_

 

He’d had Freud trapped in his own personal playground. The stage was set by his hands, the dream world at his command. Yet Freud had found a way to best him yet again and in front of an embarrassingly large audience. Jung would be lucky if the newspapers didn’t print about the ‘mass hallucination that seemed to take over all of London’.

 

_What was the point?_

A trapped bubble of thought and worry seemed to make it’s way up from the depths of Jung’s own subconscious. A worry he’d been puzzled over and restless about since he arrived on the team and found out _he_ was here. Why did Churchill need _two_ psychologists, much less two _feuding_ ones?

 

Only one of them went on missions and Churchill had stated that Jung was a last minute addition to the team. A backup whose only true contribution  was being the second therapist. The only highlight of that position was that he was the more favored of the two since he was not as perverted...outwardly anyway. What good was it having powers, those of his nature especially, when they could be so easily _thwarted_ by just thinking about sex?

 

He felt dull and pointless, as if all the energy had been sucked out of him that night along with his dignity and pride. He wanted to yell and scream, cause a mess. Anything was better than feeling mired in this realization that he would always be second best. If his Berts said anything he couldn’t hear them. A pang of regret dipped itself into the mix. If he focused hard enough, he could have been able to tell if it came from him or one of the Berts. He was acutely aware of the ghostly sensation of arms wrapping around him.

 

No doubt an apology from them for letting themselves get swept away from the aura of Freud’s power. Jung supposed he couldn’t blame them for it as he too fell victim. Taking off his glasses, he let himself grieve. They had all gotten their powers because they’d discovered something _true_.

 

Jung still hadn’t figured out what it was Edison had done to get powers at all, as he often felt the most out of place among them. Regardless of their American addition to the team, they’d all discovered some inner working of the universe on some scale.

 

No matter how big or small, on a microscopic level or a universal level- physical or not- they were previously hidden truths. They had connected the dots and put together a name, grasped the understanding and thus unlocked a part of themselves in the process. Freud’s powers were just as true and real as his own. Maybe it was the fact that the universe, some higher power had seen fit to lend credence to his former mentor’s garbage that stung him. They were both valid but his was weaker still.

 

Between hot, wet tears and broken sobs, he heard a knocking on his door. It was a firm rapping that forced Jung to cut his personal moments short. Wiping away the tears still in his eyes, he put his glasses back on. Where Jung got the energy or will power to push himself towards the door was a mystery to him. He hadn’t even looked at the door yet when he knew it was Churchill. It would be the final nail in the coffin as far as his time on the team was concerned.

 

“Mr. Churchill.” Jung answered, his voice weak and eyes still red.

 

Churchill was a formidable man, both in stature and personality. He simply puffed away at his cigar as he made his way into the office.

 

“I heard you and Freud got into another fight last night.” He started, not looking Jung in the face. “Involved all of _London_ this time.”

 

Closing the door behind him, he went to his desk out of habit more than anything.

 

“Tell me, is this true?” Churchill asked, despite Jung having no doubt in his mind that he already knew and was simply toying with him.

 

“The fight was meant to be kept between Sigmund and myself.” Jung explained before what was inevitably going to be his dismissal.

 

“And did you?” Churchill did not sit down, but he did not quite look the other man in the eyes either.

 

“I needed more _power._ More people to prove my point.” There was no reason to hide, to try and fight for his right to stay. Half the job of being removed, of no longer being relevant or helpful was done from the day they’d both been taken on.

 

“I believe I made it quite clear what would happen if you two fought again, did I not?” Churchill pressed, looking down at him.

 

“Yes, but you have to understand. This was bound to happen the moment you brought both of us together. If it’d just been me _or_ Freud, we’d have no reason to fight.” Jung stressed, trying to tidy his desk in a vain effort to keep his hands busy.

 

“It was a mistake bringing both of you into the Super Science Friends. I’d planned on bringing on different people, but...changes were made along the way. I’d thought this team would still manage to work out as it was intended to  but I see I was wrong to hope.” Churchill began, letting out another cloud of smoke in Jung’s otherwise pristine office air.

 

He made no move to complain about it.

 

“What made you think you needed _two_ psychologists? You could have taken us both back when we were still-” Jung’s voice had finally found it’s energy again. The chance to get some answers had presented himself at long last.

 

“I had my reasons for even considering you as well as Freud.” Churchill cut him off sternly.

  


“Before you remove me from the Super Science Friends, I’d like to know why at least. Why keep him and not me? Why bring me here at all?” Jung’s throat had begun to hurt again. Whether from the raw emotion that threatened to take him over or the strain of what’d the past few months had entailed, he wasn’t sure.

 

It didn't really matter.

 

“I’m firing you from the Super Science Friends, but I think it’s finally time I reveal your true purpose for keeping you around.” Churchill announced, pulling out a folder from his coat and pushing towards Jung on his desk.

 

Jung stared up at Churchill in wide eyed disbelief.

 

“I thought you said we were off the team if we kept fighting.” He asked, opening the folder.

 

“Of course you’re off the team. I’ve had it up to here with your constant fighting. Do you know how hard it is to run a war when the people directly under you keep causing problems? The Nazis already give us enough trouble I didn’t need you two to keep adding more to it!” Churchill yelled, pounding on Jung’s table.

 

Churchill inhaled his cigar deeply, as if to calm himself down enough to continue. “You’re still off the team, you’re no longer a super science friend. For what I need you to do, you don’t need to be. In fact...” Churchill’s eyes were no longer angry and disappointed, no, these eyes held a look of smugness and confidence.

 

“...it’s better if you’re not a super science friend at all. I think you’re status as a former member will help you nicely. You see, you’re going to be a spy. A double agent to be exact.”

 

Jung pawed through the files, trying to take it all in. The sudden change of pace and atmosphere threw him for a loop.

 

“You see, with your powers, you’d make an excellent spy. No trail to leave behind, no proof you’ve been smuggling information. Not to mention,” Churchill gave a sly wink at the other man, “ you can feed them bad information.”

 

“Between your feud with Freud and you officially being removed from the team, you’d have every motivation to double cross us and get back at us.” Churchill seemed quite pleased with himself.

 

“Why not have me do this from the beginning?” Jung inquired, suddenly upset at all he’d gone through because of Freud.

 

“You were not the very last member to be brought onto the team. Edison was. Originally, you were going to be fighting alongside the others from the beginning. If I didn’t need him with us, you would have been an equal member from the start.” Churchill revealed.

 

It felt like the clouds had cleared and everything fell into place...to an extent.

 

“It was after his addition that I decided you might need a new role to play. Your powers were always going to be worth something somewhere.”

 

“Can I ask...what exactly is Edison’s purpose on the team?” Jung wanted some sort of answer to that burning question.

 

“Well, he fixes things. Sometimes he makes things. In relation to you, however, he’s the perfect distraction. After all, who has time to remember you when they’ve got the  loud, flashy, American in their faces?” Churchill replied.

 

“As a spy….?” Jung began to ask about the details of his new job.

 

“Oh, all the details of your first assignment are there. I’ll make an announcement of some sort to help with your cover. While we’re here, let me tell you the rest of the details.”


End file.
